Milky Eyes
by ReadingBlueWolf
Summary: When you wake up after the end of the world, it should be every man for them self. However, when unexpected people come into your life, that's not always a rule you can follow.
1. Confusion All Over

_September the fourth_

_Okay, in hindsight, this really isn't my fault. It's not like I awoke one morning and said, oh I think I'll go for a run; that seems like a truly fantastic idea._

_I actually would have liked to wake up with a cup of God's nectar and a donut while I tinkered with some things—that's sort of my normal-ish routine. However, I'm guessing my luck has finally run out._

_The worst part of everything is I can't actually remember how I ended up on the steel table a week ago. I vaguely remember something that dealt with some serum injection__—_or maybe it was too much scotch; everything's still a bit fuzzy.

_Can you imagine my shock though when I woke up—alone—staring into darkness? For a moment, I swore I was still sleeping. __That's when I wondered why someone wasn't there waiting for me. Or even, why I didn't have information on where I was supposed to go._ I **know** at least two people knew I was in that room. So where were they? Why didn't they wake me? When I find them, they're going to get an earful about the hell I've been through.

_The thing that really gets me, though, is I can't remember how I ended up—naked, mind you—on the steel table._

_But that's not the point._

_The point is I never expected to get a full five mile jog—borderline sprint—when I left the room naked. I also never truly noticed how big Dallas was until I was forced into the marathon of my life—literally. In addition, that poses the question, how did I end up in Texas?_

_And now, a week later, I once again wake up after apparently driving a car off the highway and rolling down a ravine. My body hurts, I'm pretty positive I damaged my leg, and the clothes I'm wearing are way too big—that's always annoying._

_I think this proves my luck has run out._

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**For Disclaimers, see profile.**

**FYI, rating subject to change.**


	2. I Don't Share

**Okay, so this is my fun fic with a blend of horror and whatever I can throw in from Marvel. This isn't beta'd so if you see something, say it! Let me know what you think. Plus, I'm wondering if this is coming off well. Hope you enjoy!**

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Tony stared at the roof of the Land Rover. The ringing in his ears slowly died down. Blood was smeared across the deflated, off-white airbag—_my blood._ His arms dangled against the ceiling—_imprisoned by my seatbelt; ironic_. He blinked several times before looking around.

The windows of the Land Rover were shattered. He was certain a good chunk of the glass had cut into his skin. The right side of the car seemed to take the brunt of impact, shown by the fact the passenger seat was now nuzzled against his. Part of the roof had been crushed inward—_this could be worse._

Slowly, Tony breathed out and moved his hands to his seat belt. With a _snap_ the buckle released and he dropped to the ceiling. He yelped as his head hit first and his body fell to the right. His muscles twitched as he took another breath and his eyes burned slightly with tears, of which he wasn't sure was due to pain or the airbag dust—_airbag dust._

_If I don't move, I'm a sitting duck._

He forced himself onto his stomach and began to crawl out of the car. Glass shards dug into his skin as he dragged his legs through the window. On the outside, a sharp breath left his lips as more tears stung his eyes. _What the hell?_

With fingers firmly grasping the underside of the forest green Land Rover, Tony gasped sharply as he pulled himself to his feet. He stumbled against the car—a searing pain rushed through his left leg. His teeth sunk into his tongue causing him to taste blood. _Yep, something sliced into my left calf._

He looked down, trying to move the fabric of the baggy pants to get a better look at where the blood was coming from. As he gathered the cloth, he bit his lip when the wound came into view. A large chunk of glass protruded from the gash—_that's not pretty_. For a moment, a whistle blew through his ears before he reached down and yanked it out. As blood rushed down his leg, he leaned the other way and his stomach heaved.

White knuckles gripped the metal of the car as he attempted to focus. _I have to keep moving._

A snap in the distance caught his attention. Wide-eyes scanned the surrounding area. Dense trees, bushes, dirt and grass surrounded him. A few feet away lay a rotting, fallen tree. With the fact the dust around the car had long since settled, he assumed he had been in the ditch at least half an hour. _At least I'm still alone._

Tony glanced up and saw a small hill in the distance. _Is that—_ He rubbed his eyes before looking at the ridge again. At the top, a small figure stood watching him. Apart from its shadowy appearance, he couldn't make hide nor hair of it.

He bit his lip. If he called out to the person, there might be the chance of getting help. However, there might also be the chance of getting chased. He glanced around his surroundings. If the car crash hadn't brought anything after him, maybe he was safe.

He drew a deep breath. "Hey you!"

Instantly the figure bolted off the hill.

"Wait!" Tony called as he limped after them. "Come back!"

As he started up the hill, he heard another snap behind him. Turning, he saw a pair of milky-white eyes following him. A soft growl to his left brought his attention to another.

_Shit... _Licking his lips, he backed toward the hill. "You wouldn't hurt a gimp, would you? That's just not right."

A third set of eyes appeared behind the first dragging its broken foot across the dirt.

"Okay, maybe you would." Turning, he jogged up the hill as best he could. At the ridge, he hesitated and looked down.

On the other side of the hill stood a long cement wall. Beyond that he could make out a playground. With growls behind him, he limped forward and jumped on the wall. The pull up was excruciating. Unseen bruises from the accident screamed in protest as his muscles fought to lift his weight.

_If I survive this, I'll be lucky._

His right leg swung up and his foot gripped the cement block. Tony rolled onto his stomach and took a breath as he looked over the playground.

Much to his relief the place was surrounded by the cement wall—_a daycare?_ It looked pristine compared to the other horrors he had seen on the outside. Not a living soul had crossed its path and to that, he felt his soul ease.

Suddenly, hot breath caressed his left arm. He glanced back to see a pair of milky eyes looking longingly at his tan skin.

"Oh shit! No!"

Losing balance, he tumbled to his right and landed with a crash on his back in a bush. He groaned as he looked up at the dying light. It was then he felt the sweat dripping from his skin—making him feel like a melting wax sculpture. He grimaced. _I hate humidity._

After a few minutes, he rolled off the bush and stood. With shoulders slumped and head bowed, he trekked across the woodchips—_who puts these demonic things in a kid's place_—of the playground to the soft sound of squeaking metal. He glanced up to see a swing rocking back and forth in the distance.

"Well, if this isn't similar to a horror flick…" He shrugged and moved to the sliding glass door. As he opened the door, he sighed. "What have I gotten myself into this time?"

Tony knew he seemed a bit crazy as he spoke to himself, but normally Jarvis was there to answer him. Over the past several days, he'd increasingly grown to miss his interactions with the artificial intelligence that was usually with him 24/7. It felt odd—and disheartening—being truly alone for the first time since he could remember.

After he locked the back door, Tony limped past scattered toys towards a kitchen located on the far side. He paused midway and glanced down a hallway to his right. All the doors were closed except the last one on the far right. His brow rose slightly before his stomach growled. He turned for the kitchen.

After digging through several cupboards, he finally found a box of Avengers fruit snacks. Grabbing a package, he opened it.

"Well, this is a bit ironic," Tony muttered as he munched on a Captain America. When he pulled Iron Man from the bag, he chuckled. "Now that's just barbaric."

As he chewed on Iron Man, he became aware of a dragging sound behind him. He gently placed his snack on the counter. Rolling his eyes, Tony opened a few drawers. The fourth one that slid open caused a smirk to cross his face. As he reached in the drawer, he glanced back to find a pair of milky-eyes staring at him. Its attention momentarily switched to the gummy Avenger bag on the counter.

"I'm not in the mood to share," he growled toward the woman—or what was left of her. His hands moved behind his back.

Her spaghetti-like hair swished as she looked at him. He grimaced as she slunk forward, raising her skeletal arms; fingers grasping for him. A low gurgle left her mouth through a hole where the left side of her lips used to be.

Tony shook his head and moved forward to greet her. As the woman lurched forward, he swiftly pulled the knife from behind his back and slammed it into her skull. With a low guttural rumble, she collapsed to the floor—motionless.

"Such a shame," he commented as he cleaned the knife off on his shirt and placed it on the counter. "I'm sure we could have spent a wonderful night together, if you didn't try to eat me—and bleed on me."

Tony grimaced as he looked down at his bloody shirt. _That's got to go._ Grabbing the collar, he pulled the shirt over his head and wiped his grimy hands on it before tossing it on the dead woman—_now __**really**__ dead woman._ He then slipped the knife into a belt buckle, grabbed the gummiy Avengers and moved down the hallway.

The door that had been cracked when he glanced prior was fully open—complete with blood fingerprints around the edges. After a glance inside, he found nothing of interest. The bloody basinets in the corner, however, made him cringe.

He opened another door as he munched on a Hulk gummy—_wonder where he is._ Inside were a few coats along the walls, but nothing significant. With a shake his head and moved on with his search.

The fifth door he opened, he found a milky-eyed man inside; missing his right arm, and holding a Barbie doll—_also missing her right arm, ironically._

Tony held up his hands. "Sorry to disturb you, sir." He then shut the door and shook his head. "Eesh…"

When he opened the last door and looked about the room, his brow rose. In the corner a few cots were stacked together with several blankets on top as well as two pillows. Next to it sat three bottles of water—one half-full. _Someone's here?_ An empty bag of Cheetos lay discarded in the trash bin directly to his left.

"Damn, someone ate the last of the orange puffs," he groaned.

Suddenly, Tony had the funny feeling of being watched. An icy finger seemingly traced up his spine as he slowly turned around. He cringed as he saw a gun pointed at him. A voice quickly accompanied it.

"Don't move, or I'll shoot."


	3. You Know They're Dead

**Let me know what you think.**

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Tony glanced down the barrel of the shaky gun to see two blue-grey eyes glaring at him. With lips pursed—_and shaggy hair covering half his face_—a small boy stood ready to fire.

"Do you even know how to use that?" Tony questioned as he popped a Hawkeye gummy in his mouth.

"Enough to hurt you," the boy replied.

_Kid can't be more than eight, and he's scared as shit._ Tony sighed. "Put the gun down before you hurt yourself."

The boy hesitated, allowing Tony a moment to reach forward and grab it from him. Horror crossed the boy's face before Stark handed him the gummy bag. "Here, eat some of these. It'll help."

The boy's brow rose as he looked in the bag. "It's empty."

"You win some, you lose some," Tony replied as he limped to the kitchen and grabbed another bag. As his body relaxed and the adrenaline waned, he felt the bruises and slashes start to groan in discomfort. _God, that leg hurts. I need to find something to stop the bleeding._ "It's only fair though. You did the same with the Cheetos."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Cheetos bag in the trash can. For a second, I got my hopes up thinking I could eat some." He searched through a few cupboards in an attempt to find a towel or medical pack to patch up his leg.

The boy furrowed his brow. "Who are you?"

Tony looked over his shoulder. "Who are _you_?"

He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze. "I was told never to give my name to strangers."

"Funny. Me too."

Confusion crossed his face as he tilted his head slightly to the right.

Tony rolled his eyes. _Kids are so stupid. _"You don't know who I am? I figured you would. I'm popular in your demographic."

The boy looked up at him. "You look like Tony Stark, but he died a month ago during an 'explosion'." His little fingers made quote marks in the air before he crossed his arms again. "I think that's bogus, though. I think he died because of an experiment gone wrong. Kie agrees and says it was a cover-up, because he was just a dumbass."

Tony stiffened at the boy's words. _A month I was gone?_ "Kie? Who's that? Your pacifier buddy?"

Immediately, the boy brought his fingers across his lips like they were a zipper and didn't say another word.

_Immature. _Tony sighed. "Well, I hate to disappoint you, kid, but I wasn't a dumbass. And I am very much alive."

He blinked and bit his bottom lip before replying. "You're really Tony Stark?"

"One and only," Tony replied with a nod and tapped his chest. A blue light softly shone beneath his black tank. "Now, if I've been gone a month, how long has it been a man-eat-man world out there?"

"Well, last reports said this has been going on for at least six weeks. But all communication pretty much stopped three weeks ago."

"And how long have you been here?"

The boy dragged his foot slowly across the floor. "Ten days. I'm to wait until Kie comes to get me."

"With how it looked on the outside, I'm sure Kie's dead by now."

Tears immediately filled the little boy's eyes and his lip trembled.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Don't cry. That's pointless. Like being scared. No need to be a pussy."

The boy sniffled. He rubbed his eyes clear and moved his dark brown hair out of his face.

"I'm going to need some bandages and a backpack," Tony said as he glanced around the place. "Know where I can find that?"

After taking a few steps closer, the boy stifled a gasp as he looked at the floor. "What'd you do to MJ?"

His brow rose. "You knew milky-eyes?"

His little head nodded. "Mary Jane took care of me before Peter bit her. We locked Peter in the room and then she locked herself in the other room."

"How'd she get out?"

"I let her out when you walked in."

Tony's eyes widened in slight panic. "You tried to kill me?!"

"I didn't know who you were," the boy replied and crossed his arms. "No need to be a pussy about it."

_Smart kid. _"Think you're funny?"

"I _think_ you'll be in trouble when Kie comes back."

Tony pursed his lips. If the kid stayed here waiting for _Kie_ he was certain the boy would die. However, he didn't want to drag the nuisance around with him. _He's a liability._ Sighing, he leaned down and looked the little boy in the eyes. "Kie's not coming back, and you can't stay here."

The boy turned toward the front door. "You want me to wander outside by myself with those… things?"

"You've been living in here for two weeks with those things."

He shook his head. "No, _they_ were _Mary Jane_ and _Peter_."

Tony crossed his arms as he shifted his weight off his throbbing leg. "You know they were dead, right?"

He hesitated before finally nodding. "Yeah. MJ explained it to me."

"Good, then grab me a backpack and bandages. We need to get going." Tony grabbed the box of gummy's and searched the drawers for more weapons.

"No, thanks."

He looked at the boy. "No thanks, what?"

"I'm safer with Peter than I am with you."

His brow rose as confusion crossed his face. "What kid wouldn't want to travel with Tony Stark?"

"The kind who doesn't like Iron Man."

Tony's face wrinkled in disbelief. "You don't like Iron Man? How can you not like _me_?"

"Not everyone does."

Sighing, Tony limped back toward the boy's bedroom. He dug through a few toy bins—pulling a slinky from one and a squeaky rubber duck from another. When he turned, he found the boy standing in the doorway clutching a red backpack and a package of medical supplies.

He held it out. "Here."

Tony reached out and grabbed the supplies. The first thing he worked on was patching up his bleeding leg. _How much blood did I lose?_ He wasn't lightheaded—at least not yet.

He then opened the backpack up and glanced inside. Underneath the zipper part was a name. _Greyson? _"This from another dead pacifier friend?"

The boy shrugged, his blue-grey eyes focused on the rug. "Yeah… And the only food left are the gummy's you have and the bottles of water in the corner."

"So you're out of food?"

The boy nodded.

_I hate feeling bad for kids. _Tony looked at the front of it and grinned. Iron Man—repulsor raised—was on the front of it. He looked at the kid. "Come on, snot nose. Let's get out of here and find food."


	4. What JARVIS needs to know

_September the fifth_

_I never really expected to find a kid at the end of the world. Honestly, I'm not the parenting type. Never have been, never will be. It's probably part of the reason I'm not married. However, I'm now forced to deal with the snot nosed brat—I couldn't leave him with Peter and his Barbie._

_The kid—who's still nameless and I have to give him credit for sticking to his guns—isn't so bad when he's sleeping. He hasn't told me anything about his life, or mysterious Kie—not even about his parents. I almost feel sad that he's alone in the world, but then again, I've been orphaned for a long while. If I can manage it, so can he. Although, I didn't have to deal with those milky-eyed crazies when I was alone._

_Anyway, this isn't what I signed up for. I don't want to take care of a kid while trying to keep myself safe. He's only going to get me killed. Despite the fact he's somewhat intelligent, I just know he's going to piss me off and get me bitten. I don't have time for this._

_However, I couldn't leave him alone either. I hate feeling bad for kids. I really do._

...

Tony stuck the pen and tiny notebook in his back pocket and leaned against the tree, watching the dying fire reflect off the face of the boy. He wasn't keen on keeping any form of personal records, but he'd been without J.A.R.V.I.S. for several weeks and he imagined the A.I. would want to know what he'd been up too.

He sighed and looked back at the kid. They had walked for miles that day without finding any food. He had tried to keep to the freeways in hopes of finding survivors or a car to no success. As the sun set, he realized the milky-eyes seemed to enjoy the nightlife, and he'd been forced to move into the dark forest in hopes of hiding.

For the kid's part, despite the amount of walking he hadn't complained once. Tony had to hand it to him; he acted mature on his part in spite of his growling stomach.

Tony pulled up the left pant leg and removed last night's bandages. He grimaced when he saw the jagged line left by the glass and the nasty dark wound. He was positive without medical attention it would grow infected and he'd either die—_or worse, lose the leg._

When the sky began to turn navy blue, the boy tossed and his eyes fluttered open. He squinted at Tony before yawning and sitting up. The kid scratched the back of his head.

"What?" Tony questioned as he finished putting a fresh bandage over the wound.

The boy stretched and cast a glance around the forest. "Maybe… we should get moving."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Stark stood and nudged dirt over the small flames with his foot. He kicked too hard at one point causing a few clumps to cover the backpack.

"Hey!" the boy exclaimed, rushing to the pack and brushing it off. "Be careful with this."

"What'd mom buy it for you?"

The kid didn't respond as he slid one arm into the strap then the other.

Tony glanced over to see him fighting back tears again. He winced. _I'm an asshole._ "So you're Greyson?"

The boy looked up at him before looking towards the forest again.

"Nice to finally meet you, Greyson." The words tasted awkward in his mouth. He crossed his arms and shifted slightly. "Ready to get this show on the road?"

The kid nodded.

Silence surrounded them for close to half an hour as they trekked through the woods. Finally, he glanced toward the kid. "So, you lied."

"About what?"

"Obviously you like Iron Man. I knew everyone liked me."

The boy scoffed, but didn't respond.

Once again, silence settled in as they walked. Tony was amazed to see how peaceful the forest was. The green leaves were beginning to turn yellow with the coming of fall. A gentle breeze blew through, making the humidity bearable for the time being. Somewhere in the distance, a bird sang softly in the branches. Despite what went on in the world, this was a little piece of heaven he would never leave if he could help it.

_How did the world go from organized chaos to hell in six weeks? What did I miss?_

Tony frowned as the trees became sparse and finally disappeared together, revealing a small town. He hesitated. _Do I go to the town?_

"Tony, do you really think Kie's dead?"

He startled and looked at Greyson with a nod. "The chances that Kie is still alive are none. Sorry to tell you. If he left you there two weeks ago and never returned, he's _not_ coming back."

Tony wasn't surprised when the kid didn't respond—_didn't expect him to._ He pursed his lips before starting toward the town.

"Is the town safe?" Greyson questioned.

"Nothing's safe now-a-days, kid."

With the sun high overhead, he crept through the streets; the boy right on his heels. Two pairs of milky-eyes made an appearance, but the place was otherwise deserted. At one point, Tony passed a large camper detailed with blacks and reds and silvers. He smirked. _A Winnebago. Wonder if it works._

Continuing on with his trek, he crept quietly through the empty town. The majority of the windows in stores had been shattered and debris littered the streets. _Is that a couch?_

At one point he passed an alley. He suddenly found himself snatched by his shoulder and roughly shoved against a wall with cold steel pressed against his temple. Greyson gasped.

"What are you doing in my town, bub?"

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**Sorry if this is rough. Let me know what you think! :)**


	5. Kind of Stuck

The pair of angry brown eyes before him studied Tony closely. As he quickly glanced over the stranger's features, a brow rose when it reached his facial hair. "I'm actually wondering where your mustache went. That's why I'm here. You have this full-blown beard and then it's like you can't grow anything on your upper lip. Is that a personal issue?"

The man growled in response and pressed the steel closer to Tony's temple.

He winced as he felt the metal slice him. _Okay, that's not a gun. _He glanced over to see three silver claws protruding from the man's fist. "Those aren't knives, are they?"

"Enough of your—"

"Logan!" interrupted a softer voice.

The man's head snapped to the right as Tony tried to roll his eyes that far. On the edge of his vision, he made out a woman with red flowing hair.

"Jean, he—"

"He has a child with him," she said softly and walked past to where Greyson stood petrified. She leaned down, looking the kid in the eyes. "Hello, there. What's your name?"

Greyson stiffened and didn't respond. Instead, his gaze snapped towards Tony, brow raised in question. Tony's eyes widened. _He's looking to me for guidance?_

"We're just passing through," Stark said softly and took soft breaths. The lunatic with the claws could go after the kid. "We mean no harm."

She nodded and turned to him. "I'm Jean."

"Tony."

Her brow rose. "Tony Stark?"

The man with the claws, now known as Logan, growled.

Tony glanced from the man to the woman. "One and only."

She slowly walked to them. "Let him go, Logan. He knew the professor."

The man hesitated. "How do you know?"

Jean looked at Tony. "You knew Charles Xavier, did you not?"

Stark tried to nod as the claws cut at his temple. "We were associated…"

"Because of the Illuminati, correct?"

"That's really classified—how'd you know?"

She smiled slightly. "It doesn't matter." Jean looked at Logan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We need to get back to the store. We've been out in the open too long."

She turned and walked down the alley. Logan released him and trailed her. Jean paused at the end and looked at them. "Are you coming? Or do you want to be made into dinner?"

Tony looked at the kid. "Let's go, snot nose."

Greyson nodded and followed Tony through the alley.

As Tony entered the back alley entrance to the store, he looked at Greyson. The kid had bags under his eyes, dirt on his face and clothes, and wide-eyes scanned the area. He glanced up at Tony who gave him a reassuring nod. _Poor kid._

Inside the store, he came across shelves piled with medical supplies. _Those could be handy._ Through the pharmacy window, he could see two more people gathered in a darkened room. The windows and front door were boarded up; the shelves had been pushed to the windows.

As Tony exited the pharmacy door, he glanced at one person and cringed. _That fucking pain in my ass—_

"Logan, you're kidding right?" said a woman running a hand through her short red hair. "You did _not_ bring Stark here."

"Don't look at me," Logan growled. "It was Jean's idea."

Tony glowered as he stepped into the main store, Greyson right behind him. "What are _you_ going to do about it?"

She looked at Jean. "I don't want him here. He needs to go."

"He needed help, Natasha," Jean replied.

"Did the asshole get himself bit? I wouldn't be surprised."

Logan issued toward Greyson and Natasha followed his gaze.

"Oh, you're joking," she groaned. "Stark is the _last_ person who should have a kid."

Tony crossed his arms. "I'm surprised you're still alive, Natalie. I thought people would have killed you since you're such a bitch."

"Funny. Cursing around a child," she shot back. "_Real_ parenting material."

"Please," said a dark-skinned man, rising from his seat next to Natasha. "Stop this senseless arguing. It will not help anyone."

The room quieted. With a raised brow, Tony glanced the man up and down. He was dressed in jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt—_nothing out of the ordinary._

"T'Challa's right," Jean said as she moved toward a fridge in the corner. On the shelves next to the fridge, she pulled out two Special K bars and brought them to Tony and Greyson. "We don't have much, but I hope this will at least give you some nourishment. You must want some rest. You can take a spot by the counter and lean against it."

Greyson accepted the bar and crept toward the counter.

Tony took the food, but made his way toward the man called T'Challa. He held out his hand. "Tony Stark."

"I know who you are, Mr. Stark. It is hard to miss a man who is always on the news, especially when he is Iron Man." T'Challa shook his hand. "It is good to see you survived the explosion rumor."

"Yeah, I don't know what that's about." Tony shrugged. "So, what's going on? The kid said this started six weeks ago? I was awake six weeks ago and didn't hear about it."

"You weren't," Natasha commented with a roll of her eyes. "Fury said you went off the grid seven weeks ago."

Tony shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. I couldn't have been out for almost two months."

"What date do you last remember?" questioned T'Challa.

"September fifth."

Natasha shifted slightly. "Stark… It's October 26th."

Tony shook his head. "It can't be. It's too damn hot."

She nodded. "It's been like that since this happened. The leaves are turning, but the weather's not. We think it's attributed to whatever this mess is."

As her words slowly sank in, the world spun around him. _Dizzy because of my leg… _He blinked as a heavy breath left his lungs and he ran a hand through his hair. "This is some sick joke, right? I can believe I was gone for a month, but there's no way it's almost been two. What happened to Pepper? Where's Rhodey? And Steve? Happy? What happened to Stark Industries?"

"Captain America went missing right after you did, Iron Man," T'Challa said quietly. "The reports said that Miss Potts took over Stark Industries, but we do not know what became of her. As for your friend, Lt. Colonel James Rhodes, he led the first charge against these creatures—"

"Back when everyone thought there was a chance," Natasha commented softly.

Tony turned as Jean walked over.

"There's always hope," she said softly. In her hands she held fresh gauze and antibiotics. "I noticed your leg wound. You're going to need these. I can patch that up for you, if you'd like."

"Maybe later." Tony took the supplies, then glanced to the kid before looking back at the gathered group. "What are the survival rates?"

"Next to none," Natasha snipped.

T'Challa sighed. "We aren't sure. After the radio went out, there has been no contact with the world."

"How long have you been here?" Tony asked.

"Natasha and T'Challa have been here three weeks," Jean answered. "Logan and I have been here five. We came with Scott Lang, his wife and daughter."

"Scott? His wife's name is Peggy—he called her Rae," Tony said. "And their daughter's Cassie, right? He worked for me. Where are they?"

"Sleeping in the upstairs room," Logan replied gruffly as he walked over. "We take turns keepin' an eye out."

Tony's eyes drifted around the shop. The shelves were mostly empty, save for a few useless items—_who needs a figurine of Superman?_ He looked back at the group and replied. "How long are you planning to stay here?"

"We have no plans of moving, bub," growled Logan.

"You're going to run out of food. What happens when that day comes?"

"We're not moving," he growled again.

"Then you're as ignorant as those milky-eyes out there," Tony responded and rolled his eyes.

The sound of metal rang through the shop. Tony found two sets of metal claws pointed at him. "Wanna say that again?"

"Should I speak slow so you can unders—"

"Boys," hissed Natasha. "There's a kid in the corner, and he looks a bit frightened."

"Right," Stark responded. He glanced over to where Greyson sat curled up—knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. His wide eyes focused on Tony, and he bit his bottom lip. After a moment, Tony left the group and settled beside the kid—while the other adults dispersed. Without a word, he finally opened his bar and slowly munched on it—savoring the flavor.

"Tony," Greyson said softly. "Are we going to stay with these people?"

"Not if they're going to stay here."

"Why not?"

Putting down his bar, Tony pulled up his pant leg and began changing his gauze. "We have to keep moving. The food here will run out, as will the water. And sooner or later those milky-eyes will find a way in."

Greyson nodded. "Will we go together?"

He sighed as he picked up his snack and finished it. He then began folding the wrapper into a tiny square. "You're kind of stuck with me now, kid."

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**Sorry if the characters seem a bit off.**

**Let me know what you think.**


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